


They Said You Would Love Me

by xcaellachx



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Medium Stiles, Not Canon Compliant, Psychic Stiles Stilinski, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, seriously so much fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-16
Updated: 2017-12-16
Packaged: 2019-02-15 11:13:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13029837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xcaellachx/pseuds/xcaellachx
Summary: Stiles Stilinski was used to hearing voices in his head. Dead voices. He used that power to give readings to people who could benefit from hearing from the voices of their past. During a vacation in Paris, he is rescued from rabid fans by Isaac who asks him to do a reading for a friend back in California. Stiles thought about it and heard very clearly that this was something he needed to do.This story is so much fluffy fluff that you may get a toothache... well, fluff with a side of sexy.





	They Said You Would Love Me

**Author's Note:**

> This story was inspired after watching too many episodes of Tyler Henry, Hollywood Medium. That kid is amazing!!  
> This was only edited by me, I apologize for any errors! Do not copy and paste this story anywhere, including Wattpad and Goodreads. Thank you!

Paris. Majestic architecture, statues so beautiful it brought tears to the eye, the towering splendor of the Eiffel Tower, the glorious Champs-Élysées . Oh and the crowd that is trying to grab hold of the well-known medium in their midst. For Stiles Stilinski, it was hell. He was being bombarded in not only the physical realm as people tried to get his attention, asking for his autograph, but also in the veil as spirits of those who have passed washed over him, trying to get him to communicate with their loved ones. Pictures of memories and messages washed over him as physical hands grabbed and pushed at him. He was drowning, unable to catch his breath as his sight dimmed with the onslaught of information trying to pass through him. Heart pounding, his fingers and face began tingling, a familiar pre-cursor to the hell of a panic attack.

“S’il te plait, arrête,” he whimpered, unable to control the tremors taking him over as his breathing picked up, edging toward hyperventilation. “Please stop,” he said in English this time. His vision shrunk to a pinpoint before flashing out and pulsing in again, telling him he had moments before he was going to pass out.

“Hey, move it! Watch out! Can’t you guys see he’s about to collapse? Back off! Holy shit, move it, people. Hey buddy,” a loud but friendly sounding voice called. Next thing he knew, the voice was in his ear. “My name is Isaac. Go ahead and collapse, I’m going to carry you out of here, my apartment is nearby, I can call an ambulance if you need it,” the voice said and Stiles knew instantly that he could trust him, even as the darkness called to him, and he knew he would faint soon. Letting himself fall completely limp, he felt strong arms encircle him and pick him up. “Move it! I’m his assistant and I need to get him help. S’il vous plait, demenagez!” Isaac, with the strong arms and back, easily carried him, trying to turn away from the people still bumping into them. Stiles was grateful that he could just lay there, his head was swimming and the spirits were still trying to push their way through. Finally, the voices of the physical crowd grew quieter and then Stiles heard a door slide open and merciful air conditioning washed over him. “Monsieur Isaac, do you need to call for assistance?” Isaac kept moving as he answered the door man. “Merci, Jean-Claude, but he’ll be okay. Just too much sun. Can you get the elevator for me?” There was the distinct sound of the elevator opening and that was the last thing Stiles heard as he was washed away, the voices of the dead still calling to him, as he sank into darkness.

“How is he doing?” Isaac’s voice called to him and Stiles slowly found himself swimming toward alertness.

“His heart rate has calmed down quite a bit. I’d bet he’ll wake up any time now. Go ahead and grab the food you made. He’ll need to replace the energy he lost,” a deeper voice said from nearby. That voice was deep and sexy. Stiles knew now wasn’t the time for attraction, but that voice was delicious.

The sound pulled him into full consciousness and he opened his eyes. The tray ceiling was high with a fan that was lazily rotating, the slight breeze a relief to his overwhelmed nerves. Looking over, he saw two incredibly attractive men. One was older with salt and pepper hair and eyes that were so bright and blue, Stiles couldn’t help but stare. He had some sexy stubble that Stiles quite admired. His companion, who had to be Isaac, was younger, maybe close to Stiles’ age of twenty, with curly dishwater blonde hair and grey blue eyes that looked over him, seemingly making sure he was okay.

“Thanks,” Stiles croaked out before clearing his throat.

Isaac made his way over and helped Stiles sit up and handed him some water. “Here, this should help.”

Stiles nodded and drank quickly, the cold water seeming to wash away the last of the fatigue that had been hanging on. “That was perfect, thank you. I’m Stiles, by the way.”

The young man nodded and smiled. “I know, I saw your show. I’m Isaac and this is Chris,” he said nodding toward his blue-eyed companion.

“Hey,” he nodded toward the man before turning back to Isaac. “I really appreciate what you did. I didn’t know what to do, I probably would have been trampled if it weren’t for you.”

“No problem, man. I couldn’t believe how nuts it was out there. I guess you have some big fans,” he said with a wide smile.

“I didn’t think people here would notice me, that’s why I came here for vacation. But, I guess that’s what I get for thinking,” Stiles said with a grimace as he scrubbed his face with his hands. The two television specials where he’d done readings with a few well-known celebrities had gone wild online. His business had gone nuts from there and he’d been consistently busy for the last year. While the money was good – read: holy shit, how many zeros is on that check?! – it was starting to wear on him. He honestly missed his quiet life where the readings were his choice, finding those who he believed needed him, not who could pay the most. He’d told his manager, Lydia, that he needed a break before he broke. They’d assumed Paris would be safe and since they both had wanted to come here, it was an easy decision. So much for that.

“Well, I know for one, the college kids have seen your program and loved it,” Isaac said, sympathy shining in his eyes.

“Same with my age group,” Chris said, his deep voice sending a shiver up Stiles’ spine. This man was just yummy.

_My father_ , the whisper came from his right. And just like that, he saw the spirit and knew the situation. Isaac was a werewolf. Huh, he hadn’t seen one of those for a long time. Dad, Chris, was a hunter. Odd combination for them to be living together. _Mine_ , the voice said, like a wind passing through his mind. Ah, Stiles understood. Isaac had been hers before she passed and her father had taken him in as they mourned together.

“I’d like to offer you a reading as payment for your assistance today. I meant it when I said I probably would have been run over by rabid fans out there. And I know things,” Stiles said with a friendly wink.

_Please, tell them I’m okay… with mom and we’re happy._

I’m trying, he told her.

“I really didn’t do it for any sort of payment,” Isaac assured him.

“Oh I know that. I’ve already got someone coming through,” Stiles said, his finger already tracing on his pants like it was a piece of paper. Doodling helped him center his thoughts.

“Uh, okay,” Isaac said, his face suddenly pale.

Stiles could see there was someone he didn’t want to hear from. But he could tell the girl coming through wasn’t dark as some malignant spirits could be.

“Should I leave?” Chris asked, starting to stand, though Stiles could tell he was dying of curiosity.

Shaking his head, Stiles waved him to stay seated. “No, please, this is for you, too.”

The men looked at each other, hope on their faces.

_Miss them. So proud._

“If you really don’t mind,” Isaac said, even as he scooted closer to Stiles on the couch. “Uh, would you like to eat first? I made you a couple of sandwiches.”

“No, thank you, though. I’ll eat afterward. I wouldn’t want to make you wait.”

_Thank you_ , the voice echoed in his mind. Dimples? Were there dimples on this girl?

“Do you need a piece of paper?” Isaac offered.

“Actually, I think we’ll be okay. I see a girl and I see dimples. And L’s? Two L’s in the name. This person is coming through on your side of the family, sir. She died way too soon, too early in life. A child? A daughter. Yes, a daughter with two L’s in her name and she has dimples. Does this make sense to you?” Stiles asked Chris.

The man nodded quickly, tears already swimming in his eyes. “Allison,” he whispered.

_Yessss_ , Allison spoke to him.

“Okay, good, yes, Allison. She is coming through very strongly. She connects to you both, referring to you as hers. She is very proud of the two of you. I don’t see a familial relation to you,” Stiles said to Isaac. “A relationship? Personal maybe?” Isaac nodded, silently crying and wiping at his face. “Okay. Thank you. She is coming through with mom.” Stiles suddenly made the connection and looked at Chris with sympathy. What pain he must be in. “Your wife and daughter?”

Chris nodded and Isaac went over and sat on the arm of the chair Chris was in and they clung to each other in shared grief.

“I’m so sorry. Mom isn’t coming through, but Allison is with her, I see them holding hands and I see dimples, which tells me they are together and happy. They share no connection with the violence of their passing.” He saw the quick, almost panicked look between them. Should he let them know he knows about werewolves? _Died fighting_ , Allison told him, showing him a bow and arrow. “Allison is showing me a bow and arrow? Does that connect?”

Once again the men nodded and the tears seemed to come in a deluge.

“Okay,” Stiles said, keeping his voice gentle. “She wants you to know she and her mom are completely at peace. There is no anger, no grudge, and while they acknowledge the manner of their passing, they hold no emotion toward the circumstances or people involved. Allison is very happy the two of you are supporting each other and staying together. Both mom and Allison approve. I’m getting the impression that in life, Mom wouldn’t have approved?” At the dual nods and Chris’ twisted mouth, Stiles continued. “Well, that has changed. Once she made it through the veil and was able to understand the world and life as a whole, she changed her outlook. She sees everything now, Allison is showing me, and shows regret for some of her actions. But she does wish for you two to continue to be a family. That is coming across very strongly.” Stiles paused as another spirit ‘knocked on the door’, as he called it when they asked for permission to come across. Polite spirits did that. Others just bombarded him. He allowed the spirit through and his heart immediately ached as he looked at Isaac.

“Isaac, I have someone coming across for you. A father figure? Yes. But though there was a physical relationship, there was no real father-son relationship, does that make sense? He is showing me wire framed glasses.” Stiles doodled on his knee again and then froze as his heart dropped. “Oh, Isaac. A freezer.” He saw it all as the spirit showed him. The abuse, shoving his son into a freezer and locking him in it for whatever reason he wanted. The spirit’s heart was broken, crying as he showed these things to Stiles. Begging forgiveness. _So wrong. Wrong, wrong. Not a real father. Glad Isaac got away. Glad I was killed._ Looking at Isaac, he saw the old fear in the young man’s eyes. “Isaac, I am so sorry for what he put you through. And so is he. Please understand, once a spirit crosses the veil, they become Aware. They are able to see their lives and the world as it truly is, they can see the errors in their lives and understand in a much better way than they ever could alive.”

Chris was holding Isaac tightly now as he bent over with the force of his tears. Stiles looked at Chris, visibly asking if he should continue and Chris nodded.

“He knows now that what he did wasn’t making you a man, but abusing you horribly, ruining your life. He is so proud of the man you have become and is well aware that he had nothing to do with it and he is glad for that. He is showing me a chain which represents to me that this is a generational problem, the abuse. He, too, was abused and believed it was the way you raised children. But he is showing me the chain is now broken. When or if you decide to have kids,” Stiles didn’t tell him that he saw twins, two blonde, curly headed children toddling around happily with green eyes. “You will be the one to break the cycle. You will be a wonderful father and he wants me to tell you to not be afraid. You will never be like he was. He understands how you feel about him and doesn’t blame you at all. He says that when and if you are ever ready, simply call for him and he will be there, protecting you and your future family.” And with that, the spirit thanked him and eased back into the veil, not wanting to cause Isaac any more pain. “Okay, he left. Are you okay? Can I get you anything?”

Isaac was hiccupping and still bent over, lost in his grief and anguish. Stiles made his own decision and walked over to the kitchen, thankful for the open concept apartment and found a glass and put water in it. He found the tray of food and brought it into the room. Isaac could use the energy some fruit or a sandwich could bring him.

Crouching next to the man, he offered him a napkin from the tray and then the glass of water once he wiped his face. Isaac smiled at him and drank before offering it to Chris who finished it off. “Here, eat something,” Stiles said, handing him a strawberry.

“That was for you,” Isaac said, his voice raw.

“Well, I think there is enough here for all of us. It’s been quite an afternoon,” Stiles said with a grin, offering each man a half of a sandwich before taking one for himself. They ate quietly for a couple minutes, splitting up the fruit and chips that were on the tray. Chris went to the kitchen and brought them all more water.

“Thank you,” Chris finally said once they were finished and sitting back. “I can’t tell you what it means to hear what we did.”

Isaac agreed. “To hear they are at peace and together, no less, brings so much peace to us.” He sighed. “And I needed to hear what my father said, even if I didn’t want to. I’ve needed to hear that for years. Thank you, Stiles. That was a priceless gift.”

Stiles smiled. “I’m so glad to hear that. Messages like that are hard to share because I don’t want to hurt anyone, but sometimes it’s what is needed for healing whether you know it or not.”

Isaac looked like he wanted to ask a question, looking up at Stiles and then down at the napkin he was twisting in his hands.

“Ask, Isaac, it’s okay,” Stiles encouraged.

“Well, is there any chance I could recommend someone for you to read? I have this friend, well, we’ve been in and out of touch since Allison passed. He’s had some really crappy things happen to him and I think he could really benefit from a reading from you. I can pay,” Isaac said, his words rushing out of him.

Stiles looked at him, consulting the spirits that spoke to him on a daily basis and led him through his life. He was able to catch himself before the shock could show on his face.

_He will love you._

Loud and clear. He heard and knew it was a message for him.

“Um, sure, I’ll have you email me the information for your friend. He’ll have to give permission, of course, but no problem. Where is he located?” Stiles tried to keep his expression neutral, but he had a feeling Chris knew something, based on the keen eye the older man was giving him.

“Beacon Hills, California. Aren’t you in California, somewhere?” Isaac asked, hope on his face.

“I am. San Francisco. I’ve driven past the sign on the freeway for Beacon Hills. Odd. Huh. Maybe it’s meant to be,” he gave them a winning smile. He would freak the fuck out later about all this.

“That would be amazing. He…”

Stiles cut him off with a hand up. “Please don’t tell me anything more about him. I prefer to know nothing of the people I read. I already know too much. The rest will come when I meet with him, if he agrees. I think you might have some resistance,” he said with a wry smile.

Isaac chuckled. “Then you already know something about him. That wouldn’t surprise me in the least. Okay, let’s trade information,” he said as they all pulled out their phones.

Typing Isaac’s info into his contacts, he shared his with both men. He had a feeling the three of them weren’t done with each other, though it might be some time before they saw one another again.

Chris called a cab and within minutes, Stiles was hugged and shuffled into the cab with promises of texts and emails and, of course, secrecy. He had exchanged a meaningful look with Chris and he knew the keen-eyed man knew that he knew that they both knew what the other knew and knew it must be kept a secret. That’s a lot of knowing. But he was confident that his time with them would remain in the strictest confidence.

 

~*~*~*~

 

It was several weeks before the meeting with Isaac’s friend could be worked out. He’d sent an email to the friend offering a reading and didn’t hear back for a couple weeks. Stiles had a feeling the man thought the offer was a scam. He’d informed Isaac through text that he hadn’t heard back – they did that a lot now – and apparently his new friend encouraged him and he got an email thanking him for his offer and accepting it. He was going to meet him.

_He will love you._

Those words had been trooping through his mind since he’d first heard it in Isaac’s flat. Ever since he’d first discovered his abilities, he’d searched for his person. His someone to love. And there was nothing. Every spirit he asked, every spell he cast, nothing showed up. He had grown certain that he would never find love. He found ‘good enough for now’ plenty of times. But that one true love he had always hoped to find had never shown itself. That love like his mother and father shared, that was what he wanted.

Claudia and John Stilinski had met in high school and married soon after they both graduated college. His mother was a Spark who used her abilities to teach kids with learning disabilities. She found joy there and helped so many kids figure out what worked for them. It was too bad she didn’t live to see all the lives that were affected by her giving nature.

Stiles had always kind of known things. He’d know a person’s name before they introduced themselves, he knew answers to questions he had no business knowing. When his parents asked how he knew, he simply said, “they told me”.

When his mother died, people looked at him funny because he didn’t seem to grieve as deeply as his father. Even his father questioned him and Stiles would look at him with those big golden brown eyes and tell his father that she was still there, smiling at them and watching over them. Too gripped with his sadness, he didn’t think beyond the normal and simply thought his son hadn’t accepted Claudia’s death.

One day, while his father was searching for something, looking more and more desperate, Stiles’ mother whispered to him. “Dad, Mom says it’s in the back of the top left dresser drawer, under the new boxers she bought you,” Stiles said with a giggle. “She says you need to open it and throw your old pair away.”

His father looked at him in awe. It was the first time his son had laughed since before Claudia got sick. And how would Stiles know about Claudia giving him crap about his old hole-filled boxers? Giving into his curiosity, he and Stiles tromped up the stairs and into his bedroom. Stiles immediately went to her perfume bottle and hummed at the scent as he always did. John opened the top left dresser drawer and searched the back. He felt for the package of boxer briefs and reached underneath it. There it was, the key on the silver ‘C’ keychain. The key to Claudia’s safety deposit box which held the stock certificates that were going to help pay off her medical bills and possibly even the house.

That night, after running to the bank and the other chores that needed done, the two Stilinksi men sat down and watched the old Star Wars movies and ate a real meal together for the first time in months. Then John turned the TV off and looked at his son. “Okay, Stiles. I’m listening. Tell me everything.”

From then on, John was a believer and a proponent of his son’s gift. He found his son a teacher, the Emissary, Alan Deaton. Stiles learned more about his gift and how to use it to help people. He spent some time in a hospice clinic, helping the patients with their end of life transitions. It taught him a lot about the process of death and passing over.

When Stiles was eighteen, he offered a reading to someone the spirits warned him against. Next thing he knew, the reading was put up on YouTube and a television network got in touch with him. His keeper, as he called Lydia at the time, arranged a two part series on him. From there, his celebrity clients had no problem paying out the nose to see him once people realized he was the real thing. He looked forward to the day he could afford to live off his earnings for life and not have to be in the public eye. But being able to buy a new truck for his dad and paying off Lydia’s house meant more to him than some public discomfort.

Now he had the opportunity to read a man who might love him. He couldn’t help the hope that lit up his heart.

 

~*~*~*~

 

Derek Hale sat down with his laptop and signed into his rarely used email. He used it to keep in touch with Isaac and Cora for the most part. And neither of those two were exactly loquacious, so he didn’t anticipate any mail. To his surprise there were two, both a couple weeks old. One from S. Stilinski, the last name sounded familiar, but he wasn’t sure so he deleted it, thinking it must be junk. The other was from Isaac.

 

_Dear Derek,_

_As always, I hope this finds you well. Hopefully getting out of your dungeon.. sorry, loft. How are Erica and Boyd? Still sucking face at every opportunity? Did you kick them out yet? Have you given any thought to building a pack house?_

_The reason I’m writing is because an opportunity came up for Chris and I, and I want to share it with you as well. I know you don’t watch television, but there was a program on about a medium named Stiles. I was suspicious, of course, I mean, really? People on ‘the other side’ contacting him and talking with loved ones. Well, oddly enough, I ended up rescuing him from some overly affectionate fans here in Paris and without even asking, he gave Chris and I a reading. Derek, this guy is for real. Seriously for real. He brought across Ally, Der. And Victoria, sort of. But there were things NOBODY but us knows, if you know what I’m talking about. It was really Allison and she had messages for us. He brought up how Victoria was sorry for her actions. He also brought across my father… I can’t even get into what was said, but, Derek there was no way on earth this guy knew us enough to somehow fake this. He didn’t even know our last names until he went to leave._

_Stiles was very grateful for my help on the street and when I asked him if he would read my friend, he agreed. Derek, I would NEVER offer this to you unless I was a thousand percent certain it was real. I know enough about your family to know that if you had the chance to communicate with them you would. Please, Derek, for me, for the pack, for yourself, talk with Stiles. I swear on everything I love that you won’t be sorry. Call me when you get this and we can talk it over some more if you want. Look for Stiles’ email and give him a chance, okay?_

_Thank you, Alpha._

_Isaac_

_P.S. I’m including a link to Stiles’ documentary. Give it a watch before you decide._

 

Derek sat there and questioned Isaac’s sanity. Then because he knew Isaac wouldn’t push him without reason, he retrieved the email from Stiles, but didn’t open it. Not yet. Instead, he clicked on the link and with a deep breath, started watching.

The screen opened up on a beautiful sunrise overlooking a canyon. There was a tall, lithe young man standing there. He was lightly muscled and was slouched comfortably in a t-shirt and jeans. The camera zoomed in on his face, lightly tanned with moles scattered across the plains of his high cheekbones and chiseled jaw. His eyes practically shone, as if there was an animal underneath, golden honey in the rising light.

“My name is Stiles and when I was a kid, I realized I was different when I could talk to people who weren’t around anymore….”

Derek sat there for four straight hours, watching the two part documentary and all of the extra scenes that were cut. When it was all over, he realized his heart was pounding. He wasn’t sure if it was because of the impossibility of what he’d just seen. Or because he was enthralled with the beautiful young man on the screen. The readings he’d given those people, real people and celebrities alike seemed astonished when people came through for them, giving details that nobody had ever known. There was no way those people could fake the kind of shock and emotion that the readings brought out.

Clicking quickly, he returned to his email and opened up the message from Stiles, his stomach now jumping in nerves and excitement.

 

_Dear Mr. Hale,_

_Hi there! I got your name from Isaac Lahey. I met him in Paris and he helped me out of what could have been a disastrous incident. I can’t thank him enough. He asked if I could give you a reading as someone who could maybe benefit from a message from the other side. That is all I know of you, other than your name and location. I know all you have to go on is my word, but I do not look up people I am going to read, I generally don’t even want to know their name, but this was a special circumstance. If you would like to have a reading, please just email me and we will figure out a location that you feel comfortable with. (Some folks don’t like to have the reading in their home, some do, it’s all up to you!)_

_If you would rather not have the reading, that is no problem, just let me know or let Isaac know and he can let me know._

_I look forward to hearing from you!_

_Stiles Stilinski_

 

 Not giving himself any time to find an excuse to cancel, he quickly typed out a reply and hit send.

 

_Mr. Stilinski,_

_I would be very grateful for a reading. Would it be okay to have the reading outside on a piece of empty property? There are no other houses, it’s just forest. If not, we can do it here at my home._

_Thank you in advance for your time._

_Sincerely,_

_Derek Hale_

 

His heart was beating and though he knew the likelihood of hearing from Stiles any time soon was low, he couldn’t help leaving his laptop open and pacing around, his wolf pacing with him, whining at him for some reason.

Stopping in the middle of a turn, his heart pounded. Without a thought to the time difference, he called Isaac.

“Derek?” a tired voice came on after several rings.

“Does he know you are a wolf?” Derek demanded.

“What? Who?”

“Stiles, Isaac. Does he know you are a wolf?”

“No, Derek, nothing like that even came up. But honestly, I think even if he did know something, he would either keep it to himself or he’d be someone you could trust with it. Think about the things he’s probably heard over the years. There is nothing anywhere about him ratting someone out. It’s like… confidentiality,” Isaac said with a loud yawn.

“I’m trusting you here, Isaac,” Derek said, his voice low.

Isaac’s tone went soft. “I know you are. And you can trust Stiles too. I swear I would never put you in a situation where you could get hurt or found out.”

The line was silent for a moment, Derek breathing hard as he thought about what Isaac said.

“So are you going to do it?”

“I’m thinking about it,” Derek lied. Something in him wanted this to be his and his alone. Nobody else needed to know about it.

“Well let me know if you do, I’d love to know what happens.”

“Sure thing. Go back to sleep, Isaac.”

“Okay. Night Alpha,” Isaac said.

“Night pup,” Derek replied with a smile. Unlike his werewolf brother and sister, Isaac had always been the one who appreciated the hierarchy. He found a sense of safety in Derek’s authority. It took a while for Derek to deserve his beta’s care and love, but they got there. Derek thought maybe his mom finally might approve. Maybe he would have the opportunity to find out.

 

 

~*~*~*~

 

_Dear Mr. Hale,_

_Having a reading outside is perfectly fine! Anywhere you feel comfortable. Let’s figure out a day that works for you…_

 

After several emails, they came up with a day that fit into both of their schedules. Stiles made sure he didn’t have anything else scheduled that day. He wanted every opportunity for the fates to work. If Derek was meant to be his, he was going to go with it.

Unlike most of his readings, it took every ounce of self-control to avoid going online to find out more about Derek, even just to find out what he looked like. With most clients, he didn’t even give it another thought. With this hint that Derek might be his, he wanted to know if he was good looking or if he was already in a relationship or if he was open to dating at all.

The days leading up to the reading were filled with anxiety and impatience. He didn’t know why he couldn’t settle, okay, yes he could, but he’d worked high stress situations before and been able to handle himself.

“Stiles, I swear to the goddess, I will whip you with Prada’s leash if you don’t settle down. What the hell is up with you?” Lydia was growling at him from behind her desk. They were having their weekly meeting where they went over Stiles’ schedule and where he would be going. She kept track of the names and locations of his readings, but kept them in her phone which was locked with her fingerprint. He had no way of getting into it and didn’t want to. It would be going against his word. “I have something for Friday afternoon…”

“No!” Stiles stopped pacing and shouted. “Sorry. I mean, no, I want Friday evening clear.”

“Why? It’s not like you have a date,” she said before she squinted her eyes at him. Sometimes what she saw was creepy and made him wonder if she had a gift. “Unless you do have a date. Anything you want to tell me?”

“There is potential and that is all I’m telling you. I don’t want to jinx it,” he finally admitted after losing a stare-off.

“Stiles! That is amazing! Well, since you don’t have anything else today, we are going shopping. You aren’t showing up to this ‘potential’ wearing plaid and holey jeans,” she said, closing her computer and grabbing her purse.

He thought of putting up a fuss and then gave up and gave in. There was no harm in showing up to Derek’s reading looking good. Or as decent as he could get.

 

~*~*~*~

 

Derek looked through his closet, not sure why he was giving a shit about his appearance. He was meeting Stiles at his family’s property in the Preserve. It wasn’t exactly a suit and tie occasion. Settling on dark wash jeans and a rust-brown Henley that Erica said brought out his eyes, he threw his jogging shoes on and headed for the door.

Arriving twenty minutes early, he wandered around the ruins of his familial home. Isaac and his other betas had been after him for some time about building a new packhouse. Something in him was loosening up and he was starting to see the benefit and reasons behind a new start. It just seemed that he would be tearing down the last he had of his family.

A loud engine startled him out of his thoughts and he headed for the front of the house where a decrepit light blue jeep pulled up in the circular parking lot that wasn’t damaged like the rest of the house. He waved to let Stiles know where he was and then gasped. The young man stepped out and he was drop dead gorgeous. Much more so than he had appeared on the videos Derek had watched. He was wearing a lightweight burgundy sweater with a white dress shirt underneath, the collar and bottom of the shirt peeking out. Both shirts were rolled up to reveal well-muscled forearms, a look Derek had always appreciated. His black slacks were snug but not skin tight and the black and white Converse shoes seemed to top off the whole ensemble. He was delicious. But that wasn’t the best part.

He was Derek’s mate.

That is why he’d been so excited and antsy about this meeting. The videos had shown his wolf enough to get him to agree to the meeting. Now he and his wolf knew that Stiles was theirs.

Stiles was dumbfounded. Derek, another werewolf and possibly an alpha, was absolutely gorgeous from the thick, wavy black hair to the green eyes to the stunningly athletic body that he was hiding underneath those clothes. He couldn’t be more grateful that Lydia had dressed him. He had to have Derek, he had to make him his. Somehow.

“Derek, nice to meet you, I’m Stiles,” he said, walking over and offering his hand.

They both gasped when their palms met, a spark running up their arms and into their hearts. The bond had ignited between them.

Stiles, unsure what had just happened, carried on. “Where would you like to have your reading?” He could hear the spirits beginning to come through. Luckily, he had brought his notebook to doodle in. This one was going to be intense. The ruined house was full of spirit activity and they knew he was here.

“I put a couple of chairs over there in the trees,” Derek said, trying to control the tremor that was running through him. He knew Stiles had felt the bond snap between them, though he probably was clueless as to the reason.

“Lead on,” Stiles said, waving his arm.

They walked past the tree line and over to a couple of lawn chairs with a bucket overturned to use as a table. Two bottles of water sat there along with a selection of granola bars.

“I didn’t know if you needed anything,” Derek mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck as he blushed.

“This is perfect, thank you. The water is always welcome and if things get too heavy, food does help,” Stiles assured him as they sat and was gifted with a shy but pleased smile. Derek was adorable.

“Okay, I already have people coming through, so let me tell you how this works and then we’ll just jump in.” Derek nodded so Stiles continued. “I get images and words from the spirits who have passed over. Sometimes it will make sense, sometimes it won’t. I scribble as things come through, it’s just a sort of meditation for me. If you could validate or let me know if things make sense as we go along, that would be great. Any questions?”

Derek was astounded at Stiles’ gift and just shook his head, unsure about what was going to happen. Would he hear from any of his family? His mom?

“So first, I have a female coming through, one of several, but this one is very strong, persistent, she wants to be heard. I keep hearing alpha, alpha, alpha. A ‘T’ name. Does this make sense to you?” Stiles looked at Derek who was pale.

Clearing his throat, Derek nodded. “Yeah. My mom, Talia.”

“Okay, good, that makes sense. Okay. She is bringing forward a young male, holding his hand, which tells me this would be her child. Does that make sense? The name rhymes with yours,” Stiles said.

Derek whined, low and pained. “Yeah, my, uh, baby brother Carrick.”

“Alright, thank you. I’m so sorry. You have experienced a lot of loss. She is showing me a knight, armor, protector, she says you did your best protecting your family. But now you’re using the armor to keep others away. Does that make sense?”

Derek nodded, unable to help the tears that began to fall. He had done his best to protect his family from he had allowed Kate to do, but it wasn’t good enough. It was never good enough.

“She said it wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t,” Stiles shook his head, rubbing his temples. “She is yelling it, wanting to make it clear, needing you to know. She knows it wasn’t your fault. Twisted, something was twisted, manipulated and that was what was at fault.” He looked at Derek questioning him in silence.

“Yes,” he whispered. “Kate tricked me into falling for her. I let her get at my family and kill them all,” he said with a whimper. “It was my fault.”

“No, no it wasn’t. I can see it now, Derek, your mother and another female, a relative. A sister maybe? She is also there, telling me she knows now. In life she wasn’t forgiving, she says, but now that she has become Aware, she knows she was wrong. This other person was at fault. You were twisted, fooled, used and abused. I have another ‘ick’ name coming through. Another male holding hands with your mother. Your father?”

“Eric,” Derek offered, trying to get a hold of himself. He knew he needed to hear these things, but he didn’t know if he could handle it, or believe their message.

“Eric wants to ask you a question. Wow, I so rarely get actual words coming across. Eric asks, was Allison at fault for her actions when her mother and grandfather twisted her up and manipulated her mind?”

“No, of course not!” Derek cried. They all had seen the change Allison had gone through, how she became the slave of her family and their hatred.

“Then why would you be?” Stiles asked, his voice quiet but powerful.

Derek froze in mid gasp.

“You were manipulated, you didn’t even do anything to your family. All you did was talk to the person who made you believe you were in love. So how could you possibly be at fault?” Stiles asked, driving it home. He felt the approval of all of Derek’s relatives. They were cheering him on, in fact.

“But… but…,” Derek couldn’t form any words. He didn’t even try to control the sobs shaking his body.

Stiles paused for a moment, scribbling on his notebook. “Carrick thanks you for all the camping trips you took him on. He’s showing me a fishing pole and worms. He loved that part, hooking the worms on. He’s laughing at the memory of grossing you out,” Stiles said with a snicker.

Chuckling through his tears, Derek smiled. “He loved being a little shit.”

Stiles shared more memories the group was bringing through as well as some grandparents who had passed years prior to the fire. Finally a new voice came through.

“I have a new female coming through. No relation. I see a book with the pages turning. Does that make any sense to you?” Stiles was confused by what he was seeing.

“My high school sweetheart was named Paige,” Derek said with awe in his voice.

“Ah, ok, that makes sense. Thank god, I thought I was losing it. Paige shows me a terrible incident and a tiny percentage and how life put her in the tiny percentage. Do you know what that means?”

Derek nodded. “Yeah, she had a bad reaction that only happened like one in a million.” He still felt tremendous guilt over it.

“She is at peace, Derek, perfectly happy. She is only coming over here to tell you to stop feeling guilty about it. It’s not like she was your mate. She wishes you happiness… oh, and she’s gone. Okay, she really is happy. She had no reason to stay and chat,” Stiles said. Sometimes spirits truly found peace and had no reason to hang out with the living.

Sighing heavily, Derek smoothed his hands down his legs. “I have felt pretty guilty, but I’m glad to hear she found happiness.”

“Was this because the bite didn’t take? Was that the bad reaction?” Stiles asked, tilting his head.

Derek jumped, knocking his chair over. “What did you say?”

Stiles startled at his reaction before realizing he hadn’t let Derek know that he was aware of his werewolf status. “The werewolf bite. It didn’t take. And I’m sorry, I thought I’d let you know already. I’d meant to tell you before we started the reading. Your mother was your alpha, you lost your pack in the fire. And Paige died from bite rejection.”

Stunned, Derek just stared at him for a long minute. “You know? Everything?” That would make everything so much easier, he realized. Especially acknowledging they were mates.

“Yes,” Stiles said. “I haven’t said anything. You aren’t the first I’ve met, you know.” He grinned at him. “I knew Isaac was one as well, also that Chris was a hunter.”

Derek flopped back down onto his chair. “Holy shit. You really are amazing.”

Blushing, Stiles waved him off and grabbed a water bottle.

“No, seriously. Think about what you’ve done for me today. I’ve been dealing with this guilt for years, so many years. Now I can start to release it,” Derek said, his voice filled with awe and relief.

“You better, I have a feeling your mother will come after you if you don’t. They’ve all gone for now, but I did get another solid message throughout and that was a hammer and nails, they were brand new. Judging by the ruins over there, I’m assuming they are suggesting rebuilding,” he finished, his voice gentle. Derek was headed in a positive direction and Stiles didn’t want to ruin it.

“Yeah, I have been thinking about it for a while now. My betas have been wanting me to build a packhouse for all of us,” Derek said, still trying to take everything in.

“I think it’s a good idea,” Stiles said. He knew it was time for him to leave. Derek needed to start going over what happened and digest what was said. “I’m going to head out of here. Feel free to call if you have any questions or want to schedule another reading.” That was as close as he could come to saying he wanted to see Derek again.

They both stood and turned toward the driveway. Derek stopped him by grabbing his arm. “What about if I want to call and ask you on a date?” he asked, voice firm but shaky, eyes bright and hopeful.

Stiles’ eyes bugged out. “Um, yeah, yeah, I would love that,” he finally got out.

“Really?” Derek looked just as surprised.

“Yeah, really,” Stiles said, blushing with pleasure.

“Okay, well, I’ll call you. Maybe tonight?” Derek cringed a bit as he asked, thinking he was pushing his luck.

“I’m available,” Stiles said with a grin.

“Excellent,” Derek said, his voice gruff again. “Thank you again for everything, Stiles. I can’t begin to express what it means to me.” He held out his hand.

“It was my pleasure, truly,” Stiles said, blushing. Taking Derek’s hand in his, the shake was less of a thank you or send off, it was more making physical contact. Especially the way Derek’s fingers roamed over his, tracing the long fingers, squeezing gently before releasing him. They held eye contact for a long moment before Stiles finally stepped away.

Derek walked Stiles to his jeep and waved him off. He looked at the ruins of his family home and took out his phone, thankful for the strong signal, even way out in the Preserve. He hit the voice search button. “Search contractors in Beacon Hills.”

 

~*~*~*~

 

Stiles was useless for the rest of the afternoon, watching as each hour ticked by and Derek hadn’t called. All he could think of were those soulful green eyes, the emotion the obviously strong and guarded man had shown during his reading, his strong hand holding his before he left. They told him Derek would love him, but Stiles felt like he was already there. He wasn’t a werewolf and couldn’t sniff out a mate… oh shit. Had Derek recognized his scent? What if they’d been wrong and Derek wasn’t his? What if Derek’s wolf hadn’t claimed him as a mate? Stiles had trained himself out of showing excess emotion, but he felt tears burning in his eyes. After meeting Derek, there was no way he could imagine his life without him. His future belonged to Derek, but what if he was all wrong? What if Derek had mentioned a date out of pity? He wouldn’t be able to deal with the disappointment. Something in his spirit had already made room for Derek within him. Tears began sliding down his cheeks and he slid down the wall he’d ended up against while pacing. What was he going to do? Maybe he should leave…

The sound of Imagine Dragons pulled his attention to his ringing phone. He didn’t recognize the number and was going to ignore it when that part of him that talked to the Other side knocked at his ‘door’.

“Hello?”

“Stiles, it’s Derek Hale, is this a good time?”

“Hell yeah it is. Um, I mean, yeah, sorry,” Stiles muttered. He had mostly cut off the teen Stiles who liked to spit out his every thought, but apparently remnants still remained. “What’s up?”

The sound of Derek’s warm chuckle tickled his ear and everything in him relaxed, warm and happy.

“I was calling about that date we’d talked about. Is it going too far to admit I’ve been thinking about you all afternoon?” he cleared his throat, sounding embarrassed. “I, uh, barely got any work done.”

Stiles melted, positively melted. “I’ve been thinking about you as well, so if it’s going too far, we’ll just go there together. What were you working on?” Stiles had to ask a normal question or he’d end up declaring his undying devotion over the phone. He could at least hold it off until the end of their date.

“I was so inspired by hearing from my family, I decided to tear down the ruins of my old home and start the process of building a new one. A pack house for all of my pack, with room for family and.. and mates,” he finished quietly.

“Derek, I know I don’t know you well, but I know how hard that must have been for you. I’m so proud of you. I know your family approves,” Stiles said, actually hearing a hint of agreement in the back of his mind.

“Literally know?” Derek qualified.

“Literally. They aren’t here right now, but I am feeling what I would call an echo in the back of my mind. Pride and approval are the feelings coming across.”

Stiles heard a faint whine and Derek took a deep breath. “Thank you, Stiles. I needed to hear that. I can guess all I want and hope that the decisions I make are the right ones. It means everything to get actual feedback. I know I can move forward now and make them all proud.”

“And you will, Derek, I know it.” Stiles was so touched by Derek sharing with him, he wished he was there so he could hug him, let him know he isn’t alone.

“Would you like to have dinner with me tonight? Maybe I could make it for you and maybe show you the plans I am deciding between for the pack house?” Derek’s voice was so full of hope it was endearing.

“I would love nothing more,” Stiles said, putting all the emotion he had into his words.

Writing down Derek’s address and the code he would need for the elevator, Stiles promised to be there in an hour. When he hung up, he rushed into the shower, scrubbing himself from head to toe, stopping to linger in a couple places. Being himself, he began thinking of Derek in his tight Henley and the way his pants snugged around his perky bottom. Groaning Derek’s name, he brought himself to completion, nearly collapsing at the intense release. Thinking of Derek being the one touching him quickly brought him unbelievable pleasure. He then spent another five minutes scrubbing so he didn’t arrive for their first date smelling of sex.

Not wanting to arrive empty handed, he pulled out an old bottle of wine he’d gotten from a grateful client. Remembering the mixture he’d learned as a teen, hanging around with the local weres, he pulled out some wolfsbane and poured just enough so Derek could enjoy a slight buzz without weakening himself. It was a good vintage, Stiles noted, taking a sip. A little nip for bravery.

Arriving at the tall building of condos, Stiles admired the exterior. It was modern, but had a touch of age to it that added personality. The elevator and code took him to the penthouse and again he was impressed. He figured being the last living family member of such a large pack, Derek would have something to live on, but it appeared there was more than that. The door opened to a large foyer, the ceilings tall and one large wall made of beautiful red brick. But what really caught his eye was Derek, standing there in jeans and a snuggly soft green sweater… and bare feet. Holy shit. There was something about a gorgeous man with forearms and feet bare that just got him going.

Derek’s welcoming smile broke through his thoughts. “I’m glad you found me okay,” he said, shaking his hand before leading Stiles forward with a warm hand on his low back.

“Yeah, I’ve driven by this area many times, I’ve just never had a reason to come in.” Stiles slipped his shoes off in the closet Derek pointed out for his coat and then handed off the bottle of wine. “I spiked it for you,” he said with a shy grin.

“Hey thanks,” Derek chuckled. “I haven’t had any ‘bane wine in a long time. How did you know how to mix it?”

Taking a seat on the super soft black leather sofa in the living room, Stiles patted the seat next to him when Derek looked around hesitantly. He told the story of growing up with weres and how they all learned the recipe so they could get wasted together.

“Bit of a rebel, were you?” Derek said, smiling. He reached his hand out next to Stiles and just like they were both teens, Stiles knew he was shyly trying to make a move. This guy was too sweet for words.

Tangling their hands together with a happy grin, Stiles nodded. “I was a rebel back then, but now I’m just a quiet guy living this extraordinary life I was given.”

“Can you tell me your story? I mean, I admit I watched the documentary, but that can’t be all the truth,” Derek said, a light blush covering his high cheekbones.

“You watched me huh?” Stiles had to tease him, enjoying how the color deepened on those gorgeous stubble covered cheeks. “Yeah, most of that was for the hype of television. There were a lot of parts they left out.”

“Well, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. Why don’t we move this conversation to the dinner table. The lasagna should be done soon,” Derek said, tugging Stiles up by his hand.

This time, Stiles took the initiative and put his arm around Derek’s waist. The wolf grinned and joined in with his own arm and they walked together to the kitchen that was visible from the couch in the open concept main room. “Did you make the lasagna or buy it?” Stiles asked in a teasing tone.

“Honestly I made it. You should have seen the kitchen about ten minutes before you got here. It was not pretty. I love to cook but I am not neat about it in any way. I use every bowl and pan I need and everything just piles up. I’m more eager to get to the food than worrying about whether the kitchen is clean or not,” Derek said. He pulled out the lasagna, hot, with the cheese still bubbling on top.

The smell quickly filled the area, cheese, meat, different spices, and Stiles’ mouth watered. He knew Derek smelled his pleasure when a proud smile crossed his face. The man was half parts wild, sexy strong beast and half shy, eager to please, and adorable. Stiles smiled in return and helped him carry in the salad and French bread. The bread was store bought, he admitted. He’d never been good at baking.

“I’ll have to tempt you with my cheesecake recipe then,” Stiles said, openly flirting.

Derek’s eyes widened. “Yes, you will. I love cheesecake.”

As they served up dinner, seated closely thought the table was made for eight, they talked easily. Music played in the background and the lighting, though there was no candlelight, was still low enough to create a mood. Stiles told Derek the honest truth about his background, how he learned about his gift and tripping through the first years of it. In turn, Derek confessed the sordid tale of Kate and how she targeted his family and seduced him when he was fifteen. Stiles took his hand and held it between both of his, projecting calm toward him, hoping it would work. He didn’t know if it did, but Derek finished the story without getting overly upset. He was an amazing man who survived hell and still kept his humanity and ability to love.

They finished clearing up from dinner, Stiles volunteering to load the dishwasher. He heard his favorite song playing on the stereo and started humming along.

“You like this song?” Derek asked, taking the towel from Stiles’ hands.

“It’s my current favorite,” Stiles said with a coy smile.

“Dance with me?” He asked, vulnerability shining in his green eyes as he held out his hand.

“I’d love to,” Stiles said and took his hand.

Derek pulled him into the open space between the dining room and kitchen before drawing Stiles’ body into his. Stiles wrapped his arms around Derek’s neck and snuggled into him, chin on his shoulder. Rocking slowly to the beat, Derek hummed into his hair and openly sniffed his neck before giving a low growl, his hands massaging Stiles’ lower back. Stiles also gave in and buried his nose into the warm animal/Derek scent buried in Derek’s neck.

“You’re perfect,” Derek rumbled. “I know we just met, like hours ago, but Stiles…”

They both pulled back, still holding one another close. Stiles saw the vulnerable look in his eyes as he tried to express what he felt. “I feel the same, Derek.”

The raw relief in his green gaze loosened something in Stiles. “Really? You feel like this? Like you’re… like you’re mine?”

Stiles gave a tremulous smile. “I do. Strongly. Derek, I have to tell you something.” He couldn’t keep it secret, not now that everything was coming out.

“What is it?” Derek looked worried, but when Stiles cupped his cheek and stroked the soft stubble growing there, he relaxed. “You can tell me anything, Stiles. I know we belong together.”

“When I first met Isaac and gave him that reading, he told me about you. I heard something. I don’t know who it was, but I’ve heard them before. Maybe they’re my ancestors, protectors, guides, I don’t know. But they seem to show up and direct me at important times.”

“And what did they tell you?” Derek’s arms tightened around him, as if not wanting to let him go based on whatever Stiles was going to tell him.

“They told me you would love me,” Stiles said, tears of sheer joy filling his eyes. He’d wanted and waited for what seemed like so long to have someone of his own. Now here he was, wrapped in the arms of this amazing man and they were admitting this was it. They belonged to each other.

Derek’s eyes widened in shock. And then relief and happiness. “I knew it. Stiles, I knew it as soon as we met in the Preserve. I knew you were mine. My mate.” He shook his head in wonder. “Mates aren’t exactly common among werewolves, so it’s considered special when mates find each other. If one is human, it can be difficult as humans don’t tend to feel the connection,” Derek said, leaning forward and nuzzling at Stiles’ cheek, his eyes closed in bliss.

“I feel it. Probably not the same as you, but I feel it. I feel a connection to you, like we have a bond, a spiritual tie from you to me,” Stiles tried to explain. Derek continued to sniff at him and rub their cheeks together. “Hmm. It’s embarrassing to admit, but I love how you touch me. I don’t like people touching me for the most part, it tends to bring spirits around and it can be overwhelming.”

Derek moved to using his lips on Stiles’ cheek and neck, a deep rumble echoing through his chest. “And how do you feel when I touch you?”

Stiles sighed, unable to control the reaction of his body even to the light touches. “Good. So good. Comforting but loving and caring. Warm.”

Derek opened his mouth against Stiles’ neck, kissing him and taking just the tiniest taste with a flick of his tongue. “And now?”

Stiles was nearly panting, need coursing through him. “Heat. Need. Kiss me, please.”

Holding his face like it was the most delicate porcelain, Derek kissed him lightly, once, twice before he latched his lips onto Stiles’, feeling those perfect lips against his.

Stiles whined, licking desperately into Derek’s mouth, being granted immediate access. They took long minutes, tasting each other, exploring and learning the feel of the others’ mouth. Stiles was grasping Derek’s shoulders, while Derek had both his arms gripped tightly around Stiles’ lower back, gripping his shirt. Derek broke away and began licking and nipping down Stiles’ chin and neck, leaving small marks, his wolf pleased and eager to mark his mate as his own.

“Derek,” Stiles whimpered. “Please…”

“Please what, mate?” Derek growled at him. His wolf was so close to the surface, he was fighting the emergence of his claws and fangs.

“Want you,” he panted, the sound of those growls turning him on more than anything else.

“You want me, mate?” Derek demanded, looking into those startling honey eyes that were almost black with need. “I want you, I need you. What do you want to do about it?” He wanted his mate like nothing he’d ever felt, his wolf demanding they seal the bond between them. He wanted to take his mate and make Stiles his beyond any shadow of any doubt. But he wouldn’t do anything without his consent.

“I want you to mate with me,” Stiles said. Then, because he obviously wanted to kill Derek, he put his plush mouth next to Derek’s ear. “I want you to mate me as a wolf would.”

“Ah, gods, mate,” Derek growled, shaking his head, his fangs sliding down into his mouth, his hands grasped into fists as he tried not to hurt Stiles with his claws. “You want me to take you? Make you mine. Yes, mate. You will be mine.”

Stiles whimpered as Derek moved in and slid those fangs up his neck, the tips poking him just a bit and his pants tightened and he felt like he might explode at any second. “Derek, I have to tell you something.”

“What do you have to tell me, love?” Derek rasped. His wolf was completely at the fore and was much more dominant that Derek was normally. He was wrapped around Stiles, taking his scent in and feeding on his desire.

“I’ve never.. um, well, I’m a …” Stiles stuttered out, turning red.

“You’re a virgin,” he growled. The wolf howled in victory inside him. His mate was untouched. It made sense because touch was difficult for Stiles. Intimacy was the most intense touch. As much as he wanted to shout his joy at being the first to have his mate, he had to take care of him first. “Mate, will it be too much for you?”

Stiles smiled with love for the caring of his mate. Mate, he loved that word. They belonged together. “No, mate, it won’t be too much. It will be perfect. It feels like everyone knows right now isn’t a good time and the door is closed. I’m alone in my mind right now. It’s just you and me here,” he said softly, kissing Derek, boldly leading with his tongue. He loved Derek’s taste, wild and warm and inviting.

Unable to help the continuous rumbling growl running through him, Derek let Stiles take what he needed and began leading his mate to their bedroom. Because now, everything was theirs.

Derek slowly stripped him, kissing each patch of skin that was revealed, licking each mole, insisting that each had their own distinct flavor. He growled and his eyes went red when Stiles stood bare before him. “Mine.”

“Yours,” Stiles agreed and began taking Derek’s sweater off. The wolf was unbelievably gorgeous, covered in muscles and tan skin that Stiles just had to trace his fingers over. He grinned at one point when he raked his fingers lightly over Derek’s firm ass and the wolf twitched before letting out a growly giggle. Knowing his mate’s ass was ticklish was the best kind of news there was.

Once they were both naked and on the bed, Derek took control and after long, loving and aggravatingly thorough preparation, he slowly slid into Stiles’ body, watching for any sense of discomfort. Stiles took a deep breath, shocked by the feeling of being stretched and filled more than he ever thought possible. After giving his mate a nod, Derek finally began to move and Stiles grabbed onto his ass, unable to resist it.

Derek plunged into his mate, a constant low growl escaping him at the feel of the tight heat encompassing him. He’d always felt proud of his stamina in bed, his wolf lending itself to being able to last. Now, though, he felt like he wouldn’t last more than a couple minutes. Locking his arms on either side of Stiles’ head, he began pumping into him, harder and harder as Stiles urged him on in a breathless plea.

On instinct, as he reached the end of his endurance, Stiles tilted his head to the side, baring his neck to his wolf mate.

Giving a loud growl, Derek gave a final thrust into Stiles, feeling his mate’s body lock down on his cock as he was about to come, at the same time bending down and locking his fangs onto that bared neck. He was savagely thrilled at leaving his mark on his mate’s body. As soon as he bit, both felt as if the room exploded into light. Their bond solidified and it sent them careening over the edge again, a cry and a howl filling the room.

“Mine,” Derek declared, eyes glowing red.

“Yours,” Stiles agreed, honey eyes radiating joy.

 

~*~*~*~

 

That night, the wolf and the medium became one. Two lives that were lonely in their own ways became merged into one beautiful life. Stiles found out that Derek had never spent a penny of his family’s money. All of his small fortune came from a bestselling science fiction book series that he wrote under a pen name. Now, though, Derek felt free to use his family’s money to build a packhouse that was large enough for the present pack and for any future pups that might come along, be they baby or just an orphan wolf who needed a home. Derek even built a little outbuilding that was a peaceful relaxation room for Stiles. When things became too much or he became overwhelmed by being around too many people, he would hide away in his little retreat. It had everything he needed to relax from a yoga mat to a hammock and noise cancelling headphones, and a giant beanbag chair. All of those were big enough for two, of course, since Stiles always welcomed Derek into his space. He could calm down with Derek next to him, surrounding him with his mate bond and just the scent of the wolf he loved. Though neither believed they needed it, they decided to get married after being together five years. Lydia would have had a hey-day with it if Stiles hadn’t put his foot down. He was out of the public eye now and wanted to stay that way. The spirits led him where he needed to go whether to a celebrity or an average person who needed his help. He had NDA’s that both he and the other person would sign so neither would tell of the experience. Derek accompanied him most times, both enjoying travelling together and seeing the sights of wherever the spirits took them. Sometimes, Derek had to stay behind when a new wolf had joined the pack. The Hale pack was known for taking in orphans and eventually, they would need to build an addition. Other times, Stiles would be the one going with Derek when he went on book tours. He had started a new series and Stiles was so proud of him, he convinced Derek to use his real name when it was published. Derek still blushed a bit when Stiles praised him and Stiles still kissed the pink on those gorgeous cheeks.

They lived in a world of love, both of this world and the next, surrounded by family made of those they chose and those who were given to them. Their story was told by their pack and the children of their pack and those who passed through. The spirits brought them together. They were blessed by the moon and the universe. It was written in the stars. As it is written here.

 

The ~~End~~ Beginning

 

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know if you enjoyed this!


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